Morning in Salt Blake arrived cold and damp, wrapped in a fog that seemed like it would never lift.
The smell of rain clung to the asphalt and coffee — and distant sirens played like part of the city's soundtrack.
Kimberly — or rather, Sasha, as she now introduced herself — sat on the windowsill, watching the street below.
People rushed by, everyone with a purpose.
Meanwhile, she was stuck there.
No direction. No clear purpose — except for the anger pulsing beneath her skin.
Roshi appeared in the doorway holding a cup of coffee and a paper bag filled with bread.
"Sleep well?"
"Better than the streets," she replied without looking away from the window.
He set the coffee down on the table.
"Good. I've got business to take care of today — something with the bar owner."
Kim looked over at him, brows furrowed.
"And if those monsters come back?"
Roshi raised an eyebrow. "Which monsters?"
"The vampires. Like the ones from last night. You think those three are the only ones out there?"
The old man let out a dry chuckle.
"If they show up, just don't go after them."
"Easy for you to say," she muttered. "But what about people? That guy you saved last night… what if it happens again and you aren't there?"
Roshi looked away.
"You can't save everyone."
Kim jumped down from the windowsill, irritation flaring.
"You can't just pretend nothing's happening."
He exhaled, tired.
"Kid, you have no idea what you're asking for. Being a hunter isn't just shooting monsters and playing hero. It's living with blood on your hands and ghosts in your head."
"I already live like that."
Her voice was steady — and it made Roshi stop.
In her eyes, he saw something familiar: loss. Guilt. Determination.
"I don't want to be a hero," she continued.
"I just want to know how to fight. How to defend myself. If I have to live with this, at least I want a choice."
Roshi stood silent, assessing her.
"Still not enough, Sasha."
She narrowed her eyes.
"What else do you want me to say?"
"That you understand the weight of this." He held her gaze.
"That you know what it means to pull the trigger and watch something — or someone — die in front of you."
Kim turned away, fingers tightening into fists at her sides.
"I do."
"You think you do," he replied, sipping his coffee before turning toward the door.
"You'll only understand when it's too late."
He reached for the doorknob — when a loud crash echoed from outside.
Followed by a muffled scream.
Kim rushed to the window. Down the alley beside the building, a man was pinned to the ground by a creature with yellow eyes and gray skin.
Her pulse spiked.
"Roshi! There!"
He stepped up beside her, spotted the scene, and swore under his breath.
"Damn it."
Before he could react — Kim was already sprinting down the stairs.
"Hey! Kid!" he shouted — but she was gone.
The alley reeked of mold and fresh blood.
The man struggled, screaming, as the creature — a starving Wendigo — held him down.
Kim grabbed a rusty pipe from the ground and drove it into the monster's back.
It snarled, snapping its head toward her — teeth dripping red.
"Get away from him, you ugly freak!" she yelled — sarcasm masking fear.
The Wendigo lunged.
Kim dodged, kicked its knee, and swung the pipe again — but the metal snapped in half.
She staggered back — cornered.
The beast leapt—
BANG.
It dropped, skull bursting open.
Roshi stood at the alley's entrance — gun still raised — smoke trailing from the barrel.
"What the hell are you doing?!" he shouted, storming toward her.
"You trying to get yourself killed?"
Kim gasped for breath, adrenaline buzzing.
"He was going to kill that guy!"
"And he would've killed you too!" Roshi snapped.
"You don't even know what that thing was!"
"A Wendigo, right?" she shot back, chin lifted.
"And if I knew how to fight, you wouldn't have to save me."
Roshi stared at her — furious and troubled.
The victim had already fled. The air still thick with the scent of iron.
Kim glanced at the body, then back at Roshi.
"I know what you think. That I'm just some angry, clueless kid from the streets."
Her breathing steadied, eyes burning with truth.
"But if I don't learn now, this monster inside me is going to take over.
Do you want that?"
Roshi held her gaze — deadly serious.
"You think you can handle what comes with this? The blood, the weight, the loss?"
Kim folded her arms.
"I already lost everything I could lose."
A long, heavy silence.
Roshi looked at the corpse again… then at the girl — dirty, bruised, but burning with fire.
He exhaled and holstered the gun.
"…Fine."
Kim blinked.
"What?"
"I said fine."
He walked past her.
"If you're going to step into this world, you'll at least do it right."
A tiny smile crept across her lips.
"So… you'll train me?"
"I'll teach you to survive," he corrected.
"Hunting comes later."
"That works for me," she said, chin proudly lifted.
Roshi shot her a stern look.
"Tomorrow. Six a.m. If you're late — it's over."
Kim groaned.
"Six? Do you want to train me or kill me?"
He cracked a smirk.
"Pretty similar thing."
Back on the makeshift mattress, Kim stared at the cracked ceiling — and let out a satisfied breath.
Finally… something was changing.
Maybe now…
…she could actually make a difference.
Outside, the wind howled — dragging the metallic scent of the city through the air.
Inside that small apartment, two broken lives — one fueled by vengeance, the other by guilt, took their first step into a future that would shake their worlds to the core.